


Stellar Collision

by orphan_account



Category: Loki - Fandom, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angry Sex, Arranged Marriage, Biting, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hair-pulling, Light BDSM, Loki is a dirty dirty slut, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Public Sex, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Tumblr Imagine Loki, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-23
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-14 17:31:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3419426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another Prompt-My New Addiction</p><p>Imagine growing up and hating everything about Loki, mostly because he was despicable, but also because your father and his father have been feuding since before you were born. Then one day your father tells you that to settle the feud you must marry Loki. You’re enraged but decide to do everything you can to at least make the best of it. </p><p>Imagine Loki’s face when he sees you walking towards him in an extremely revealing and sexy wedding dress that does not follow Asgardian rules. </p><p>Imagine him tearing the dress off you after the wedding and having rough, angry sex all night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> [Needs to update other stories]  
> Me: Look a prompt

Something is different; the mood around the dining table is off. I keep looking around, expecting a hint to drop out of thin air but all the room looks untouched. I watch the flame dance side to side on the candle in front of my silver plate, now I realize what is so odd. It’s dead silent where there usually lively conversation between my parents and siblings, but tonight there is only the clanking of forks and footsteps of servants whisking through the room. I look to my left at my younger sister who is so close to her plate her shoulder length hair is almost touching it, she knows something is wrong. I bump my elbow into hers to try and get her attention. I’m met with wide eyes and my father coughs suddenly, her eyes avert back to her plate. 

“So, now that you are eighteen you are of legal age to be wed” he is clearly speaking to me.

I’m in mid chew when his sentence hits my ears and I almost choke on my food. With a hard swallow I manage to clear my airway and look up at my father. His eyes are sunken with thick eyelashes highlighted with grey, his thin pink lips tightened across his face in a straight line. He looks younger than he is and his brown leather under armor helps that illusion. ‘He was born built like an ox’, it’s what my grandmother always said about him. If you look into his eyes though you can see years of war and hard decisions on the battlefield, they are ripe with age. 

“I thought that decision was my own” I say back hesitantly. “Plus, our age of living goes into upwards of five thousand years, why must we talk about this already?” 

“Don’t disrespect our king” my older brother chimes in.

“This has nothing to do with you, cockbreath” I mutter into my cup.

I feel his heel slam against my shin and I bite my lip to keep from yelling. When I raise my eyes he is seething, but now at least he will be silent. I look at the head of the table again and avoid my father, choosing to look at my mother instead. Her long wavy hair has been pinned to one side and coiled in a tight bun near the nape of her neck, we have the same hair but she always seems to tame hers while mine stays wild. I can see a few stray hairs to my side and I push them behind my ear and give her a pleading look. Normally she squashes any skirmishes at the table but today she has her hands folded in her lap and seems docile. 

“We have always told you that you would be wed to a man we see fit.” He says while tapping his fingers against the table. “And I have found that man.”

“Who? Who is this man you have dubbed so great and worthy that I have had my entire right taken away from me?” I have to grip the sides of my chair to keep myself from screaming out loud. “Who is he father?” 

“Aracelia, say something to calm her down.” He mutters to my mother while rubbing the bridge of his nose. 

“Finish your speech, Ouranos.” She snaps back at him. 

The room becomes even more silent than during the meal, making my skin break out in goose bumps. I try to focus on the fire in front of me but I can’t seem to shake the feeling that what he is about to say will make me enraged. 

“Look at me” he bellows. I snap my attention back to him and straighten my back up against the chair. “Ourania, Zeru leave the room” He shoots my brother and sister a look that makes them scurry out of the room faster than I have ever seen. “Our feud with the realm of Asgard will be coming to an end within a months’ time. Odin and I have come to an agreement” he says these words as if they were drenched in poison.

How could he come to an agreement? For as long as I have been in this universe my father has never been shy about how me he hated anything related to Asgard or Odin. Almost all my childhood tales were based upon their cruelty, their murder of entire races and obsessive celebration of war. Don’t they consider their women below them? I very much remember their reputation for toting their women like property aside from the few who chose armor over gowns. I also remember Thor very vividly. Brawny, buff, hair golden and prettier than mine; am I to marry him? Oh god, is that what this is about? Me marrying Thor, the oaf of thunder, the handsome and muscled god with that giant hammer..

“Are you listening?” the king’s voice pulls me back in from my daydream.

“What?” I ask while lowering my eyes to the candle again. 

“You will be betrothed to Loki” 

My heart stops beating while my brain tries to wrap around those words that just came out of his mouth. I cock my head to the side as if that will drain the shock that is probably beaming from my face, if anything it’s keeping me from stabbing myself in the chest with a knife. Keep calm, breathe, oh dear god breathe. I need to keep a level head, screaming and throwing a tantrum will not help me in this matter. Speaking calmly and rationally is the road to take.

“What the fuck do you mean I’m to be Loki’s wife” Or I could you know, curse at the mighty Ouranos. I’m sure this will work well.

I watch his jaw clench, the veins in his bulky arms are rising from his skin and his cheeks are turning the color of an apple. My pulse is vibrating in my ears and all the blood is rushing to my head. It’s hot and angry much like my father. I suppose I get my temper from him but I almost surely get my mouth from my mother. ‘Don’t swear, princesses do not swear’ another thing my grandmother always said. I can’t help but feel betrayed and used, breeding your children to hate an entire race just to shove them off like a piece in a chess match. I will counter this move; I will fight it till my death against it all. 

“I cannot speak to her when she is like this, Aracelia. Speak to your daughter” he sputters and rises from his chair. “You will wed Loki and that is the end of this conversation.” His parting words leave me even angrier; I think I feel steam rolling off my body.

I wince when he slams the door shut and pounds through the kitchen, leaving my mother and me in awkward, tense silence. I pick up my fork and being pushing food around my plate like my sister was doing. Now I understand why she was doing it, it’s calming in a weird sort of way. I exhale and look up at my mother who is now leaning back in her chair with her slender arms seated on the wooden armrests. She is always so elegant, her thin fingers are adorned with various jewels and they clink on the chalice when she picks it up. She’s enchanting and I am always amazed at how she can make taking a sip of water look like a grand opera.

“I know you are not fond of Prince Loki-“ 

“Fond? I hate him mother! He’s brash and misogynistic and just..awful!” I shout and slump into my chair. “I don’t want to marry him” 

“You have no choice. This is an alliance we have been seeking for years. I don’t know if it’s their old age that has humbled the both of them but it will help us, all of us. Isn’t that what I have been telling you since you were a tot? A princess becomes a queen with the mindset of helping her people.” Her eyes bore into me while she says this and they melt my icy exterior, but only a little. “If your father had not groomed you to believe all Asgardians are cruel would you still feel this way about Prince Loki? You have barely spent time in his presence.”

“Yes and in that short time span I have gathered all the information I need about him. I HATE him and his sinister hair!” I sound like a child whining, but honestly I hate any man who has better hair than I do. 

She laughs at my comment and rises from her chair, padding almost silently over to me. I feel her arms wrap around my shoulders, the smell of elderflower wafts into my nose and I sigh at all the memories attached to her perfume. That’s another thing that I am not happy about; I do not wish to leave my family to a realm I know nobody. I might as well be sent off to Midgard, I’d probably find better company there. Her lips press against my temple, dissolving the rest of my attempt to freeze out the world.

“He has many reasons to be an angry man, but he will be a great ruler nonetheless.” She props her chin into my shoulder and leans into me. “Thor will not take the crown, which means you will be queen. If you are still stuck in your opinions, why not use the opportunity to change their ways?” with that piece of advice she gives me another kiss and walks back to her chair, leaving me without a decent rebuttal. 

\-----------------------

“It’s ugly” I say angrily and cross my arms over my chest. “I’m not wearing that thing!”

“It is a standard Asgardian royal wedding gown your highness,” says the tailor through gritted teeth.

I keep my stance and watch him through narrowed eyes. Nothing about this wedding has been my choice, nobody has asked my opinion or if I wanted this. Actually, everyone knows I want nothing to do with this crock of a wedding. I’ve at least managed to avoid Loki at all costs, ducking and weaving through this ridiculous circus of a palace. The only time we see each other is during dinner and I remain as silent as possible. Unfortunately, or I guess fortunately for me he has turned into a rather stunning looking man. I try not to look at him but it’s hard when he radiates dominance, it makes me feel like a bug being drawn in by the light. I know it’s dangerous but I can’t stop flying towards it. 

The tailor they have chosen is the most dreadful man on this planet, well second if you count my fiancé, gross, I hate saying that word. Regardless, the man in front of me is climbing the charts and becoming a non-royal pain in my ass. He’s got a nose that resembles a beak and beady eyes hidden behind thick glasses. He’s shaped like a pin needle except for his awkwardly square shoulders which makes me want to push him forward and see if he topples over like a top-heavy bottle. The dress they are trying to make me wear is void of anything other than white. Plain white that covers my entire body even up to my neck, the only thing I like about it is the long train of lace that cascades down the back but even that seems dull. 

“It’s my wedding, I should have a say in something and that dress is boring. Women have curves and boobs you know it’s natural. Not that you’d know what a naked woman would look like” I say with a sneer. Talk back; give me a reason to punch you. I watch his upper lip tighten and he balls the dress up in his fist but quickly drops it and lays the dress down on the bed behind me.

“It is unbecoming of a soon to be queen of Asgard to show any part of her body. It is for her husband only, not for the whole kingdom to see” his voice has an edge but still remains polite. 

With one turn of his heel he is marching out the door and I follow him, slamming the door after he is gone. I press my back up against the door and hold back a sob deep in my chest. I’ve been silently crying since the day I arrived. I’ve managed to keep myself in the privacy of my room, more so my bathtub, so that I am not seen as weak. Roaming the halls and various rooms has led me to stumble upon ruthless conversations between Loki and Odin. It has given me a sort of understanding of Loki, not that it excuses his rude comments and inappropriate mannerisms, but I understand his anger now. Odin is far from the father in law anyone would want, much less an actual father. 

I sink to my knees and stare at the putrid gown I’m expect to wear in just a few short hours. My breath hitches as tears flow freely from my eyes as I feel my life slowly fading away. They have taken everything from me, even when I try to convince myself I am doing something good for our two realms it doesn’t help the pain I feel. I bury my face in my hands and allow myself to sob into my palms, my wet eyelashes brush against my skin each time I try to blink back more tears. I was not allowed to see my family arrive, I was not allowed to choose anything about the ceremony, and I was not allowed to do anything but sit here like a present waiting to be opened. I am not a person anymore, I’m a commodity and that is what drives me crazy. There’s a thump on my lower back followed by more sharp raps, it’s someone knocking at my door. I wipe my face with my sleeve, pull myself up off the floor, square my shoulders, and pull the handle. 

“Your highness” Loki’s voice is creepily smooth.

“Isn’t it bad luck to see a bride on the day of your wedding?” I ask trying to sound like I hadn’t just been sobbing like the emotional train wreck I really am.

“You mean our wedding?” He asks, his emerald eyes trailing down my face. “May I come in for a moment?” he asks but doesn’t wait for an answer before he side steps me and walks into my room.

“Of course come on in sweetheart” I mumble sarcastically and slam the door shut.

I walk towards the window and lean against it while he runs a slim finger along the top of my vanity. His hands ghost over my hairbrush and various perfume bottles, all given to me as welcoming gifts. Of course, no woman could want anything other than smelly oil. My stomach is churning and it occurs to me that I’m wearing nothing but a thin robe, so I pull the belt tighter around my stomach to cinch it closed.

“Do you need something?” I ask stiffly. 

“Just wanted to see how my wife was doing,” he says not even bothering to look my direction.

“I am not your wife yet” 

He turns and flashes an amused smile; this would be far easier if he was ugly or had a peg leg. His daily garments are alarmingly tight; I notice he is muscular like his brother as he walks towards me. No, he doesn’t walk; he struts like a tiger flaunting his power before his prey. 

“I supposed I shouldn’t be looking at your wedding dress, but I do say it’s quiet..plain, modest, virgin-like.” He says tauntingly while tracing the fabric with his palm. “I suppose it matches your personality.” 

My mouth is open, I can feel the air passing through but nothing comes out. He turns without another word and walks out of the room, leaving the door open behind him. Every part of me is seething with rage, all the pent up anger I had been trying to keep covered is now bursting out of me. I am a volcano erupting, spewing my lava and burning villages. I stomp over to the door and slam it shut, I’m grinding my teeth so hard I fear I’m going to chip one. I see a glint on my nightstand, the dagger my brother gave to me before I was banished here. I eye the dagger then the stark white trash that is a gown on my bed then back to the dagger, fuck this.

I run so fast I have to skid on my heels to stop myself from slamming into the bedside table. I grab the knife, rip my dress from my bed, march over to the full-length mirror, and hold it against my body. I close my eyes and visualize what I want to look like, what will be the most eye-catching ‘fuck all of you’ design I can make? My eyes pop open and I smile so hard my cheeks hurt as I begin slashing through the fabric in my hands.

\---------------------

Don’t trip, please dear heaven don’t let me trip. That’s all that keeps playing my head right now, not the big reveal that I worked so hard on or that I’m being married to a twat. I just really don’t want to trip. I wiggle against the tight fabric and pull my coat closer together over my shoulders, trying not to smile too much. My hair is done elegantly, a side bun like my mother had when I was informed of this wedding and my makeup is barely there, to give the ‘natural’ look. Virgin look, as Loki would call it. He has mistaken my silence for weakness, my solitude for shyness and my lack of physical affection as ‘virgin’. They may have my body captive but they won’t take my soul, my mind, every part of me that is screaming in protest. If they want my body then they can have it, but I choose how I look when I am given away like a piece of property. This is my wedding day, and I’ll be damned if I look anything less than the badass woman I am. 

The music starts, it’s almost time, my heart is beating a thousand times a second. I scoop my hand under my dress and tug it down a little so it is snug against my curves. There is barely any of that disaster of a dress left; the only original piece on it is the lace train. It barely hits my knees now, in honor of ‘love’ I made the neckline into a heart shape around my breasts that dips so low it will give ample view to all. The low dip in the back reaches right above my hips, I had to make sure that lovely trained stayed or else I’d be caught before I left the room. I did manage to keep the sleeves too, but I had to cut slits in the sides by my ribcage as well to keep the heart shape bust, guess I’m showing more side boob. Whoops, really it would have been bolder to go topless. 

Suddenly the doors swing open and I can see Loki’s lean figure in the distance. There are so many people packed in the palace that there are rows of people standing against the walls. I try to spot my family but I assume they are upfront with Loki’s side. I inhale and grip onto the floor length coat they gave me to cover my ‘elegant dress’ on the way down here. I half hear the music and half hear someone behind telling me to move forward. I gulp and hold my head up high and walk towards the entrance. There is silence, I can’t tell if it’s just me or if the whole world went mute. Someone’s handing me flowers, I know I’m grabbing them but it doesn’t feel like my hand. Take a step, now another, I’m having to remind myself how to walk as I feel the coat fall away behind me. A few more steps and the volume is coming back, gasps and whispers bounce of the walls and I smile.

There’s more thumping but now I realize that’s just my heels clicking against the stone now. The orchestra sounds off tune as I pass them and make my way towards the three stairs to the altar. I refuse to look at my family but from the aura I’m feeling my father is livid and I could care less. The one thing that shocks me is Loki’s face. I assumed he would be angry for embarrassing him in front of his court, I half expected him to call me a whore and walk out on this whole thing. I somehow got myself up the stairs and am now standing face to face with him. He looks dazzling, his gold and green armor glittering in the candlelight. He is smiling from ear to ear, his eyes have not stopped roaming over my body, and his favorite spot seems to be my breasts. The speaker, marrying guy, whoever he is, I’ll call him Asgard priest man, coughs trying to get Loki’s attention. I’m trying my best not to laugh; I have gained control over this entire situation by showing some skin. Loki nods at the man and he begins but I’m only half listening. We are both staring at each other, he is full of lust and I am full of pride. I can feel something mixing, colliding between us, he looks almost proud of me. 

‘Aren’t you a tricky little thing ‘ his voice rings loud and clear in my head but his lips stay closed. 

‘Don’t get too attached to that piece of cloth you’re in, it will be in shreds before we even reach our room’


	2. Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bum bum BUUUUUUUUUM  
> time for sex.

For people who love war, Asgardians sure seem to hate confrontation. After my little ‘reveal’ the ceremony went on without anyone muttering a word about it, and now a large diamond sits on my left hand wrapped in gold with the crest of Asgard burned into the side of the band. I keep knocking it into things, cups, forks, people hell I even went to run my hands through my hair and it caught some loose strands. Loki’s dirty thoughts from earlier have yet to leave my mind but his well spoken tongue has left little intrigue as to if he was serious about ripping my dress of me. Frigga had given us our own table facing the crowd below us. At least a hundred smaller round tables are a few feet below us surrounding the dance floor. I have to admit, the hall looks beautiful with its gold accents and bountiful red roses adorning the smaller tables. Our table is the color of gold with flecks of glitter and our dishes are a deep emerald green. 

I have only spoken to my family briefly when they came up to congratulate us; it seems they’re still pissed at my act of disobedience. If I squint I can see my father dancing with my sister, my mother is in a deep conversation with Frigga and I’m sure my brother is somewhere trying to impress an Asgardian maiden. Loki is sitting next to me and has been talking to a large man who smells as if he took a bath in a wine barrel. I haven’t paid any attention to their conversation but I hear tidbits about war—of course, and some odd realm that I vaguely remember learning about as a child. My boredom is increasing the more I have to stay at this table, we could only dance once to present ourselves as husband and wife. Another stupid Asgardian rule only I didn’t mind that one so much, I’m a terrible dancer. I turn my attention to the detail etched into my cup and trace the lines with my finger hoping someone will come and bash me on the head to end my misery. 

There is a brush of ice-cold skin upon my thigh that causes my whole body to jerk upwards. My backbone presses against the hard chair causing me to wince and the frigid assault continues up my thigh. I press my hand down but I don’t feel my leg, I feel another hand. I lower my eyes and see Loki’s long fingers brushing in light circles around my inner thigh but he is still holding his conversation like nothing is wrong. His head is facing away from me so I shoot daggers at the back of his head but he just continues sliding two fingers up and under the hem of my dress. I am about to slap it away when someone calls my name from in front of me.

“Good evening, your highness” I recognize the voice; it is one of Thor’s friends. “I don’t know if you remember me, my name is Sif” she says while bowing.

“Oh, hello” I smile while trying to ignore Loki’s fingertips ghosting over my slit. I also chose to wear nothing underneath my dress, which I now realize was a mistake.

“Loki” she side glances at him and gives a small bow.

“Hello Sif” As he says this his fingers are slowly sliding up and down my lower lips, so I squeeze my legs shut in protest.

I can feel myself getting wet under his touch and it takes all the power I have to keep a smile on my face. Sif’s mouth is moving but it sounds like gurgled nonsense to my ears, Loki’s delicate patterns he is tracing along my folds has taken all my attention. I swallow hard and open my mouth to speak but Loki cuts me off. Sif looks irritated at Loki’s intrusion on our conversation but I am thankful since I have no idea what she was saying. I press my knees closer together as heat rises to my cheeks. I see Loki look at me for a split second and his lips turn upwards into a smirk. There’s a coiling at the pit of my belly, my anger is building but as soon as I decide to say something his thumb presses into my clit. I squeak and suck my bottom lip in as Sif turns to me with an odd look on her face. 

“Are you alright? You look a bit flushed.” she asks with her head cocked to the side.

“Just a little war-“ his thumb presses down harder and it sends tiny shockwaves up my core. “w-w-warm in here” 

Her brows knit together and she opens her mouth to speak until Odin suddenly appears behind her. She bows quickly then retreats down the stairs and makes her way into the crowd forming below. He gives nothing but a quick nod to Loki then turns to the people gathering in front of the platform and he begins to speak. Something about joining and becoming one family, it’s all smashed together and becomes less clear the harder Loki presses on my bud. I grip onto his forearm resting on my thighs and dig my nails into him as he starts rubbing his thumb in tiny circles. 

_Do you like this my sweet?_

I hear his voice in my head again but I try to ignore him. I stare in front of me, trying to focus on finding my family but all the faces look the same, blurred and unrecognizable. I feel another finger trail up my slit and join his thumb to give my swelling nub a pinch that hardens my nipples instantaneously. A muffled moan escapes my lips at the same time Odin says something to make the crowd laugh. I can feel my cheeks getting hotter by the second as Loki continues to pinch and rub my now throbbing clit. My hips involuntarily roll towards his fingers and I hear a chuckle deep in his throat. Once again I try to focus on anything in front of me; I can feel sweat rolling down the back of my neck. His fingers suddenly slip down to my opening and slide inside me. I suck both my lips in my mouth and buck forward at the intrusion.

_You do like this don’t you naughty girl. So wet for me, and in front of all these people._

Odin has been talking for what seems like hours and with each stroke of his fingers inside me the closer I come to falling apart in his hand. He begins to piston his fingers at a furious pace while showing an innocent face to the crowd. I move my hands to grip hard on the edge of the table to try and steady myself. I whimper, finally spreading my knees to allow him better access, my need for release is becoming unbearable. My jaw clenches to keep from screaming when the tips of his fingers brush over my g-spot and I feel my muscles clench around him. I know he is thoroughly enjoying this, I can feel it by the way he has begun pumping mercilessly inside me. Odin’s speech is coming to a close; I hear soft sighs mixed with the soft moans escaping my lips. I feel the sharp corner of the table cut into my palm but all I care about now is reaching my orgasm. Loki’s thumb circles my clit while his two fingers rub my g-spot simultaneously, finally bringing me to my peak. I squeeze my eyes shut and come hard onto his hand at the same time Odin finishes his speech. The hall is echoing with applause as my juices leak out onto the chair and Loki’s hand. My head is spinning and the nape of my neck is drenched in sweat. I want to be angry but my orgasm has me in a haze and all I can do is place my head on the table.

“Are you alright?” I hear Odin’s voice hovering above me. I need to respond, say something. “I just need some air” I mutter and rise on shaking legs from the table.

Everything is a blur as I half sprint through the crowds and find my way to a random emptied hall. My legs are still weak from my high; I have to lean my whole body against the cold, stone wall to catch my breath. My eyes are closed and I see fire in the darkness, I feel contorted and confused by his actions. He believes he can do what he wants when he wants but my god can he do it _well_. I don’t want to admit to myself how much better I feel, as if all my stress dissipated as soon as I came. I tap the back of my head against the wall a few times to shake away the burning need that is pulsating between my legs. 

I feel a gust of wind and then a hot tongue along the shell of my ear. His large hands wrap around my waist and push me further against the wall, his heartbeat matches mine and I groan half in anger half in arousal. His teeth graze under my ear and I shudder, the tingling between my legs is growing the deeper he digs his teeth into my neck. I bring my hands up and tangle them into his hair, yanking his head back so I can look at his face.

“Were you trying to embarrass me in front of my family or do you just think I am yours to play with?” I snap at him. 

“You are mine to play with, pet. You may be a pretty little thing but in truth I didn’t want to fuck you until I saw you saunter down that aisle,” he says with a growl and tightens his grip on my hips. 

“Defiance turns you on?” I ask and yank his hair harder.

He lunges towards me and bites down on my collarbone and I yelp, I try to pry at his hair but his hands have moved from my hips to my wrists to pull them off his head. His strength surprises me when he pulls my hands from his head and slams them above me, pinning them against the wall. His hot lips lick and nibble at my neck, leaving a trail of saliva on my sensitive skin. He brushes his nose against mine and bites my bottom lip roughly before he speaks.

“Defiance, trickery, intelligence, it’s all very arousing.” His voice is laced with lust and I feel his cock pulsating between my legs. “And that wet little pussy you have isn’t so bad either.” He smirks before dropping to his knees.

I gasp as the tear of fabric echoes through the empty corridor and I feel the cold air against my skin. His nimble fingers rip my dress in half exposing my naked body. I open my mouth to protest but his hand wrapping around my thigh and pushing my leg up into my side silences me. His breath hits my bare mound, I throw my hands back into his hair and before I know it I am urging him forward. I hear him laugh lightly before the tip of his tongue is tracing my outer folds. I feel hot all over; my skin is crawling with pleasure as he strokes my heated flesh expertly. His free hand rises up my other leg and to my heat to spread my folds open. He taps his tongue against my clit repetitively like a drum causing my head to loll from side to side.

“Fuck, Loki” I whisper, my eyelids fluttering closed. 

His tongue presses downward, circling my entrance before delving deep inside me. The leg I’m standing on is beginning to shake the deeper he goes, my back arches off the wall and I grind my hips downwards to his tongue. I feel the heat again; stars are bursting behind my eyes as I ride his tongue up towards my high again. My hands dig into his skull when he closes his lips around my folds and starts suckling them, alternating between lashing his tongue and pulling me into his mouth. My skin is blazing and I’ve lost the ability to form words, vowels and mewls fall from my lips at random. For a brief second I forget how to breathe when his tongue strokes my g spot. Suddenly I’m shooting my chest upwards as my orgasm envelops me in bliss. He keeps his hand gripped on my thigh as he stands and presses his body into mine, for once I am thankful since he is basically holding in me up.

“I fucking hate you” I mutter with my eyes still closed.

He laughs and brings his lips to my ear again. “You’ll learn to love me, pet. Though your pussy seems to be deeply in love with me already.” 

I get a sudden shot of strength and slap him across the face, hard enough to echo around us. My eyes pop open in shock of my own action and I wait for him to react, but he just laughs darkly and hitches my leg up higher. I suddenly can’t stop looking at his lips, so I dive for them and bite harshly. He moans in response and his other hand is wrangling with his pants. I hear them hit the floor while our tongues are battling for dominance. I feel passion and anger melding into one raw need to be fucked by him. I feel his thick head rubbing at my entrance and I can’t take it anymore. I’m clawing at his neck and his hair trying desperately to push my hips forward into his cock.

“Will you just fuck me!” I hiss against his lips. 

He lets my leg drop onto the floor and sinks his hand into my hair, spinning me around. My face meets the wall and his boot hits the bottom of my stiletto, knocking my legs further apart. I feel his body on mine, his hands under my cheeks, spreading them apart and then he is rubbing the head of his cock against my soaked cunt. I moan and scratch against the brick and then he is inside me, burying his cock fully in my wetness. His arm slinks around my middle and takes my nipple in his hand, pinching the tip in rhythm with his hips. I push up further against the wall with my chest, arching into his hand and wiggling my ass against him, urging him to move faster.

He takes the hint and begins snapping his hips forward, bucking and gyrating to hit my nerves endlessly. I don’t care if anyone hears me anymore, this is my palace, my choice, my fucking wedding and now I am screaming his praises. His mouth meets my shoulder and moves upward, he slides his hand from my breast to my pulsating clit and begins massaging it in rhythm with his hips. Another hand slides into my hair and pulls my head to the side exposing my neck to his hungry mouth. Fireworks are cracking in my nerves, my cunt is pulsating around his cock and my knees are getting weak. His rhythm is getting erratic the closer I get to my release, I squeeze my muscles around him and he moans my name into my ear. It sends shivers down my spine and then white light beats around me. I call his name in ecstasy and he bites down on my pulse point, reaching his peak at the same time as I. We slow our rhythm; we are one in the very moment. Our breathing, our pulse and our bodies all connected in our own silent world. 

“Still hate me?” he whispers, resting his chin on my shoulder.

“A little less. At least your cock is useful.” I spit back.

“Oh my little minx, I have yet to show you how useful I can be.” He growls.

A green aura surrounds our sweaty bodies and then I am lying on my back in a pile of green pillows, lust-filled eyes hovering above me with a devious smirk underneath.


End file.
